


Homme au Maillot (1965)

by Albione



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Meta, Tiny amount of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 03:52:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albione/pseuds/Albione
Summary: Oliver and Elio are in New York and visit the Hammer Gallery and end up in a meta loop.Part of the Ad Astra world, but in the present.





	Homme au Maillot (1965)

**Author's Note:**

> In the week that Timmy and Armie trolled us all, I could not stop laughing at Armie’s ig picture from the Hammer Gallery, he is trolling us again with an Elio picture. And as I laughed this train crash of a story came into my head. This is meta, actually, meta of the meta.

I have always had a love –hate relationship with New York, it reminds me of the best of times and the worst of times; childhood visits and adult stays, the joys and pains and the man who lived here and I thought I would never see again.

But now there is part of me in this city, my father.   
I remember the when at dawn I scattered some of his ashes into the Hudson, the river of the city he was born in; I was alone, and I felt so alone.   
“Nature has cunning ways of finding our weakest spot” I could hear his voice as minute fragments of my father flew in the air and gently floated on the dark waters, away from me… 

“Planet Earth to Elio…” said a slightly bored voice.  
“Sorry Julian, I was lost in thoughts” I smiled at my lover’s son, so similar and yet so different from the man who meant everything to me “Has Oliver already gone in?”  
Julian nodded. 

We decided to visit New York, before helping Julian to pack for his move to Switzerland, where he would start a research project at CERN; it was only a couple of days for Oliver to meet up with friends and visit some places together.   
We both had seen the Metropolitan so many times that we had felt vaguely blasé yesterday, so Oliver suggested the Hammer Gallery, I had never been and he wanted to see a picture there. 

We climbed up the elegant staircase and entered the first room of the gallery when Julian stopped.  
“Fuck look who’s there! He is gorgeous in real life!”  
I turned to look at the man Julian was staring at; he was extremely tall and good looking, with a familiar face. “Who is he? I think I know him, but he sure is my type!”  
“I thought dad was your type!” The outrage in Julian’s voice made me laugh.  
“Tall, blond, blue eyes, that is Oliver, no?” I smiled; Julian was still glaring at me “He is too young for you Elio! He is the actor Armie Hammer, the one who played the twins in the Social Network.”  
Of course, I should have recognised him, but he was hotter in the Lone Ranger than in the Social Network; it wasn’t a terrible film, quite fun in fact. 

Oliver was in the second room, just standing and admiring a painting.   
In a room full of Matisse and Chagall he was contemplating with an idiotic expression one of the ugliest Picasso portraits I had ever seen.   
I lightly touched his elbow “Oliver, are we done?”  
“Yes Elio, I was just saying hello to an old friend; you cannot imagine how much comfort this painting gave me in the past, it reminded me of you, the summer, everything that was good in my life. When I missed you I would just come here and gaze at this painting.”

I looked at the painting closely, and apart from the t-shirt, I did have a similar striped top, and the dark blobs that you could interpret as curls, I refused to see any similarity between me and whatever was painted on the canvas.   
“I do not remember having such a dark shadow on my chin, I only started shaving the other day, or green sludge on the side of my face. I adore you Oliver, but please refrain from trying to compliment me in any way, I have only recently forgiven you for my eyes the colour of river Tiber comment you made years ago.”  
Oliver smiled “Of course the real thing is a million times better!”   
As he was leaning down to kiss me Armie walked into the room with a middle aged man. We guiltily jumped apart. 

“Dad, do you recognise him? Elio thinks he is hot…” Julian was looking at me and smirking.  
“He is nothing special, he is only tall” Oliver sounded grumpy.

As Armie and the other man posed at either side of the Picasso for a photo (what is the obsession with such an ugly Picasso) I grabbed Julian and whispered in his ear “Try to be funny again young man and I am telling your father who you are staying with in Geneva!”  
“Elio! How do you know…” he whined, but I ignored him, and grabbing Oliver’s hand, I dragged him away from the picture and the gallery.  
“You are much handsomer than that Hollywood actor, there is no comparison Cor Cordium!” and I squeezed Oliver’s hand.

I am sure Armie Hammer gave us a puzzled look as we were leaving; he certainly did after I turned round and winked at him.   
He so is my type, but I have the original and I am never letting him go.

11 September 2018


End file.
